


Paint Fumes

by writingblankspaces



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Implied Past SeKai, M/M, Struggling Artist Jongin, Top Do Kyungsoo | D.O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 03:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9158326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingblankspaces/pseuds/writingblankspaces
Summary: Jongin is an (struggling and partially starving) artist. Kyungsoo is a business man looking for an investment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm transferring some of my favorite pieces over from AFF. I've been meaning to do this for a while and of course I wait till ten days before I go back to school......ofc.....

Steam from the noodles fogged up his glasses, but really Kim Jongin could choke down the cheap meal without his sight just the same. Hands stained with acrylic paint shoveled the food into his mouth and when that was gone, he lifted the bowl to his mouth, drinking down the nearly scalding broth. 

The tip of his tongue was scolded at the initial sip, but he kept eating, knowing that the sooner he finished, the quicker he could get back to his painting. 

It was almost done and all he need to do was add some finishing touches. There was a prospective buyer that’d come by his studio a few days ago and Jongin was more than anxious to eat something besides ramen. It’d been his diet for the past month and he was getting sick of it.

Why didn’t he let his parents talk him out of pursuing art as a career choice? Why had he listened to his friends (Oh Sehun and Kim Jongdae) when they spouted bullshit about following the “art in their hearts” (in those exact words)?

Because now while Jongdae was being molded to be the next best ballad vocalist in Korea and Sehun was training in France under some pretentious ballet company Jongin couldn’t pronounce, here he was, struggling to sell his paintings and eating ramen every day.

He was miserable.

If he’d just done what his mom had wanted and been an accountant like his dad, he’d at least be able to afford side dishes to go with his ramen or possibly even instant meals from a convenience store. 

Jongin was thankful for two things though: his stubbornness not letting him go crawling back home and his constantly miserable disposition made for good art. He’d been so inspired the past few weeks that he was sure he constantly smelled of paint fumes and was almost covered in smears of paint. 

The myth of the inspired but struggling artist was turning out to be a true one but Jongin’s buyer seemed likely to change his shitty luck. 

Apparently, he’d been on a tour around the building where Jongin lived (and worked) because he was looking to purchase some property. By request, he’d been shown one of the smaller units in the building, which had been Jongin’s. They’d knocked on the door and when he’d opened it, reeking of day old coffee and paint, someone briefed him of the random unit viewing and said that it would be over in a moment.

He could’ve told them to get the hell out, but the man everyone seemed to be trying to break their neck to impress caught his eye.

He was kind of on the shorter side and had large eyes, his face kind of reminiscent of an owl. Though the other men were trying to talk to him and describe what an asset the building would be to him, the man was staring at him standing in the corner.

The entire time the group was in his apartment, the man’s gaze never left him. He still nodded along to what he was being told and someone mentioned that Jongin was a painter and that some of the units could be exclusively offered as studios rather than the combination that Jongin lived in.

At the mention of Jongin being a painter, the man broke from the group and approached him. “I’d like to see some of your work, is that okay?” Jongin had nodded and pulled back some sheets he’d strung up a long time ago and ushered the man into his workspace. The other men stood outside for fear of getting paint on their expensive (cheap) suits. 

Of course, the man immediately took interest in the only unfinished piece in the area. “This is so interesting, are you almost done with it?” Jongin nodded and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do.

Usually, his other friend Zitao, an art dealer, sold his paintings for him. At that current moment Zitao had been in Paris with his boyfriend Kris, so Jongin was in an awkward spot. “It’s actually u-uh the view out of my window when it rains. I’d been awake for a few days straight and it had done nothing but rain, so I just kinda started slogging paint on the canvas. One thing led to another and,” Jongin stopped and waved his hand towards the painting propped against the brick wall. The short owlish looking man smiled gently and nodded.

“I’ve been standing in your apartment for upwards of twenty minutes and I haven’t introduced myself to you, I’m Do Kyungsoo.” He reached out his hand and Jongin shook it softly, making eye contact with him.

Once you got past the intimidating exterior, this Kyungsoo guy wasn’t that bad. In fact, he was kind of cute when Jongin really looked at him.

 

They spoke for a few more minutes then Kyungsoo gave Jongin his card and told him to call him when he finished the piece and he agreed.

Now as he stood in front the canvas, adding a few dabs of gray paint here and some white there, he concluded that he was finished. It was almost three o’clock in the morning, but Jongin wasn’t fazed. He reached for his cell phone and dialed Kyungsoo’s number from the paper hung on the wall next to the curtain.

“Hello? I just wanted to call and tell you that your piece is done. You can come pick it up tomorrow evening,” Jongin vomited out his words. Kyungsoo sounded dazed but confirmed and then bid Jongin a good night, or rather morning.

Jongin found himself thinking about the exchange as he scrubbed paint from his hands, nails and hair. The man hadn’t sounded the least bit angry or disturbed that Jongin had called him at three in the morning. 

Weird.

Jongin woke up with a start at the sound of someone knocking on his front door. He rolled out the bed and stumbled to the door, sliding his glasses on his face and running a slow hand through his hair.

It took a bit to register but then Jongin recognized that it was Kyungsoo, sans a fancy suit. Instead, he was dressed casually in some jeans and a sweater. “Did I wake you?” Jongin shook his head and ushered Kyungsoo into the apartment.

Half out of courtesy and half out of growing excitement, Jongin offered the man some tea, which he surprisingly accepted. While the man sat at his makeshift dining table, Jongin dragged the painting out the studio area and showed it to him.

He sat down his cup and got up, walking to examine the artwork. “It’s even more gorgeous than I’d imagined it’d be. Excellent work Jongin, I can’t wait to hang this in my office.” Jongin beamed and muttered a sheepish “thanks.”

“We hadn’t discussed how I would pay you, but is cash okay?” Jongin eyes widened and he nodded with a wide grin on his face. “Of course,” Jongin’s heart was slamming in his chest and his stomach growled at the prospect of some good food. “Name your price. How much would you like?” Jongin swallowed and wrung his hands together. “Considering the time, effort and materials, maybe $6,000?”

Jongin knew he was pushing it. In any other instance, he would’ve only charged about $3,000, but he was struggling and needed the money, so he’d doubled it.

“Wow, that’s actually a bit cheaper than I anticipated.” Jongin now stood in silence, shocked at Kyungsoo’s words.

He couldn’t imagine charging the man anymore for something he’d done in a fit of insomnia with leftover paint from a previous project. With the $6,000, Jongin would be able to pay his rent stress-free for a year and not live solely on ramen.

“Cheaper?” The world felt foreign and strange in Jongin’s mouth, still confused as to how someone would be willing to pay him over six grand for a painting.

“Yes, cheaper. I came prepared to pay you at least $10,000. Also, I have a request, would you be willing to go to breakfast with me? Consider it a thank you for finishing the piece so quickly and for being so humble.” Jongin’s mouth hung open and he scrambled to search for paint-free clothes on the floor by his bed.

 

Within thirty minutes, Jongin was sitting across from Kyungsoo at a café near Jongin’s apartment. He’d always avoided this place because everything was overpriced and the whole place just screamed pretentious. The menu was totally in French and the seats were so small Jongin kept shifting to get comfortable.

During the whole ordeal, Kyungsoo watched Jongin with an unreadable smile on his face. Whenever Jongin would say something about art Kyungsoo would nod and sip at his drink, urging him to continue. At a certain point, Kyungsoo cleared his throat and rested his gaze on Jongin.

“Jongin, how would you feel if I was your patron? From the times I’ve been in your apartment, I’ve come to really admire and appreciate your art. I can’t wait to decorate my new office buildings and home with your artwork and I’m hoping you’d work with me?”

The heavy emphasis Kyungsoo put on the fact that Jongin would be working with him rather than for him made Jongin listen closer than he had been. 

Kyungsoo’s hand left his coffee cup and slid over to reach for Jongin's hand. At first, it surprised him but Jongin went along with it, letting the smaller man touch his hand without interruption. Finally, he held Jongin’s hand between his own and smiled. 

Click.

The light went off in Jongin’s head and he was glad he wasn’t drinking anything because he would’ve choked.

Kyungsoo was offering his patronage for more than Jongin’s art.

While he let the idea settle in his mind, he never shook off Kyungsoo’s touch. In fact, considering the cold weather outside, the warmth was more than welcomed. 

Here Jongin was trying to live his dream of being an (struggling and starving) artist and this man was offering him a remedy to the struggling and starving part. It’d be strange if he turned the offer down, but it’d also be strange if he didn’t give it a bit of thought. If Kyungsoo was offering what Jongin thought he was, then it’d be good not to be hasty about the decision.

Just as he was about to reply, his stomach growled and he blushed. Instead of verbally answering, he squeezed the man’s softer hand. A smile spread across Kyungsoo’s face and he reluctantly let go of Jongin’s hand, standing up. “Let’s go,” he said, eyeing the door. Jongin downed the rest of his coffee and stood up, following Kyungsoo. The man put some money on the table and they walked out, going back to Jongin’s apartment.

 

If he was being honest, Jongin only thought Kyungsoo was coming back up to get his painting. While he had agreed to Kyungsoo’s request to be his patron, he hadn’t have known he was to start working immediately.

Though this time, the art he was going to make was going to be a bit more physically demanding.

The door slammed behind them and Kyungsoo pushed Jongin into the wall next to it, pressing harsh kisses on his lips.

It’d been a little while since Jongin had gotten laid so he was awkward at first, going full on confused fish in the kiss, opening his mouth awkwardly and standing rigidly against the wall. It got better when Kyungsoo’s hands started wandering his body, ridding him of his jacket, sweater, and pants.

Instinct finally kicked in when Kyungsoo trailed his kisses from Jongin’s mouth down his body to the sparse trail of hair past his belly button. The man ran his short nails down the sides of Jongin’s hips, gripping the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down, sending shivers down Jongin’s back as hot breath landed on his budding erection.

 

Even if he’d thrown his head back too hard against the wall when he’d come down Kyungsoo’s throat and now had a tender part at the top of his head, Jongin was having fun.

They’d gotten to Jongin’s bed and now they were both naked, save for Jongin’s socks. Kyungsoo was hovering over him stroking him back to hardness and he was panting, trying not to make sounds that sounded too needy. He didn’t want to come across as desperate even if it’d been almost six months (when had Sehun left?) since he’d gotten off with someone other than himself.

He gave up that notion when Kyungsoo told him to get on his knees and kneel forward. He complied and Kyungsoo then proceeded to rim and finger him. Jongin was sure he debated crying at one point and begged Kyungsoo to fuck him, which was ignored while he was teased to the edge of coming then denied release again and again for at least ten minutes.

 

With shaking knees and his body damp with sweat, Kyungsoo guided Jongin back on his back and smiled at Jongin’s dick that was curved to his stomach, smearing conspicuous amounts of pre-come there. 

“Condom?” Kyungsoo asked, his face flushing a pretty shade of pink. Jongin turned over on his side and reached underneath his bed, throwing it near Kyungsoo’s lap.

He wasted no time rolling it on then spreading Jongin’s legs. He moved forward and slowly pushed inside the man underneath him, reveling at the perfect amount of drag inside of Jongin.

When he was finally seated all the way inside, Jongin started twitching and raising his hips, encouraging Kyungsoo move. “More,” Jongin begged, grabbing a handful of sheets when Kyungsoo complied and started thrusting.

 

Kyungsoo’s loose grip on Jongin’s dick made Jongin want to cry, his pace and stroke slow, comparative to the steady rhythm he was using to snap his hips into Jongin. He had one his legs lifted up, hitting a different angle inside of Jongin.

Each movement brushed past his prostate and now he was positive he would cry. 

That wouldn’t be too embarrassing, right? To cry and come so quickly into the main attraction would leave one hell of a first impression sex wise. 

Luckily for Jongin, he didn’t cry or come prematurely. He did however probably leave some scratches down Kyungsoo’s back and on the man’s biceps.

 

Despite his misleading appearance, Kyungsoo was quite the dirty talker in bed. To say that he’d only known Jongin for a few days, he knew exactly what to say to make Jongin that much closer to coming from words alone.

“How about next time I tie you up? You’d look so pretty bound in black silk ties with a blindfold on,” Kyungsoo commented when Jongin was riding him, his hands on Jongin’s thighs as the muscles flexed with each movement.

Jongin was so much closer to coming at that part, he just nodded along, though later he would think over the words and find it hard to believe he’d agreed to it. 

“Will you come without me touching you?” One of his hands moved from Jongin’s thigh to his chest, pinching and tweaking at his nipples and making his pace falter. “Hyu-hyung please,” Jongin stammered, shaking when Kyungsoo stopped messing with his chest and toyed with the head of his dick. “It’s so pretty and red for me,” he sighed, licking his lips as he positioned himself to better meet each of Jongin’s down thrusts.

All his movements were met with hiccups or gasps from Jongin and with one particularly well-aimed thrust, Jongin shot ropes of white onto his stomach and some landed Kyungsoo’s chest too. The other man followed not long after, spilling into the condom. 

They lay there for a moment, Jongin on the top of Kyungsoo as he hyperventilated.

That had been the most exercise Jongin had gotten in a few months actually, so naturally, he was out of breath and tired. It was embarrassing because Kyungsoo seemed to recover much quicker than him and Jongin got off Kyungsoo, wincing at the empty feeling that followed.

 

“So how is this supposed to work anyway? I’m not even sure what I agreed to honestly,” Jongin admitted after they’d gotten cleaned up. Kyungsoo sat up and thought about it then shrugged. “However you want honestly. I really do like your art and um, this was nice too,” Kyungsoo paused to gesture towards their state of satisfaction and fatigue “so I’d like to not only compensate you for your art but also anything else you’d like. Think of me like a benefactor.”

Jongin’s brow wrinkled and also sat up, thinking about everything Kyungsoo had just told him. “So like a sugar daddy? But like you like my art too, so the money you give me will be for my art?” Kyungsoo nodded.

“And anything else you’d want. If you want better paint and materials, I’ll give you money for it. If you want to take a trip to Paris to see a Monet painting, I’ll give you the money for it. Anything you’d like.” Jongin thought this over and he nodded in understanding.

So he’d acquired himself a sugar daddy. 

Cool?


End file.
